


only future that i need

by thespacenico



Series: klancemas 2018 [28]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: !!!, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Happy Ending, Keith Loves His Doggo, Kosmo - Freeform, Lance & Coran Bonding, Lance Uses His Sword, M/M, Minor Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Minor Allura/Romelle (Voltron), Slow Dancing, Space Uncle Coran (Voltron), Sparring, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, klancemas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:34:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25632886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thespacenico/pseuds/thespacenico
Summary: the team finally heads back from their month-long christmas get-together. keith asks lance to travel to the altean colony with him, just so they can be together for a little bit longer. flirting, interrupted almost-kisses, sparring, and slow dancing ensue.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: klancemas 2018 [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1198069
Comments: 31
Kudos: 197





	only future that i need

**Author's Note:**

> hello!!!!!
> 
> so to clear up any confusion, i was originally going to post this as chapter 7 of [this is the best part](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24703342/chapters/59706898), which is a collection of chapters i wrote for the klancemas zine! BUT, since i originally intended to write this specific part anyway (even before i decided to do the zine), i wanted to post it separately!!!!  
> to anyone who has stuck with it throughout this entire klancemas journey, thank you so much ❤️❤️❤️ it makes me really really happy to know that people have enjoyed it and that some people even came back to reread it again this past year! i can't believe i started this over a year ago and STILL have one very last part to write one day! 
> 
> anyway, hope you guys enjoy ❤️

Keith has been acting weird ever since they got back to the Garrison, and Lance would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit freaked out. 

To be fair, he’s probably been acting just as weird; everyone is busy saying their goodbyes as they get ready to head back home for the new year, and it’s possible that he’s guilty of tiptoeing around Keith in an effort to avoid doing just that. As much as he misses his family—which is _a lot—_ he’s not quite ready to separate from him just yet.

Which would be why he’s taking his very sweet time making his rounds, doing whatever he can to make sure that Keith will be last and that whatever they have to say to each other won’t be interrupted. That’s the goal, at least. It doesn’t stop him from casting his gaze in Keith’s direction every chance he gets, just to appease the gnawing, albeit irrational paranoia that he’s left in the handful of seconds that Lance _hasn’t_ been watching him like a hawk. 

When he approaches Shiro, he’s pulled into a bone-crushing hug that rivals Hunk’s, wheezing a little as all the air leaves his lungs. “Miss me that much already?” 

Shiro snorts, letting him go and smiling in satisfaction as Lance stumbles back a step. “You just kind of looked like you needed that. Feeling okay?” He glances both ways before leaning forward, cupping one hand around his mouth and lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Did Adam give you your Heelys back?” 

_“Yes,_ I gave him his Heelys back,” Adam says, appearing quite literally out of nowhere and smacking lightly at Shiro’s arm. Shiro makes an affronted noise and pouts, cradling his offended arm against his chest. “Whether or not I give yours back is a different story.” 

“They’re _my_ shoes!” 

Shiro folds his arms over his chest as Adam leans in to kiss his cheek, patting his shoulder. “It’s for your own safety.” 

Lance smiles a little as the pair of them fall into good-natured bickering, but other than that he’s not paying much attention. His gaze is already drifting toward the other side of the room, where Keith is talking with both Pidge and Matt, hair pulled back and falling out of the braid that Lance had done for him earlier this morning. Pidge seems a bit antsy, hands twisted behind her back as she watches them and rocks back and forth a little on her toes. At some point Matt draws Keith in for a hug, which he’s hardly seemed to recover from by the time that Matt pulls away, smiling brightly. 

They exchange a few words, and whatever Pidge says must set Matt off for some reason because his entire face lights up and he starts waving his hands around animatedly, maybe telling a story or describing whatever he and his dad have been working on at the Garrison. Keith looks slightly overwhelmed by it all, mostly nodding whenever Pidge does in an attempt to keep up. Lance doesn’t mean to get caught staring, but he doesn’t look away when Keith’s gaze flicks his way and catches his eye. Keith straightens, cheeks flushing the lightest shade of pink as he smiles, soft and genuine. Lance feels something settle comfortably in the center of his chest as he smiles back, even going as far as lifting a hand to offer a small wave. 

“...ance? Lance.”

“Hm!” Lance snaps back to the present, blinking into focus to find both Adam and Shiro watching him. “What?” 

“Hm, nothing,” Adam hums, mouth tilted up into an unmistakable smirk. 

Lance squints at him as Shiro claps his hands, rubbing them together. “Right, well, I’m gonna go steal Matt for a second, so see you guys later.” He moves to step past them, laying a hand on Lance’s shoulder as he goes and pausing to smile down at him. “Bye, Lance. Remember what I told you, okay? Any time.” 

“Yeah. I got it.” Lance smiles back, all the pent-up restless energy he’s had all morning easing away as he does so. “Bye, Shiro.” 

Shiro blows Adam a kiss as he walks away, only turning around once Adam has heaved an exaggerated sigh and pretended to catch it. Lance taps his chin thoughtfully as he watches Shiro go. “Do you think Keith would do that for me?” 

Adam snorts. “Maybe, if he ever managed to stop blushing first.” They both chuckle, and then for a moment they’re quiet, continuing to watch as Shiro pulls Matt away and Pidge gathers Keith into a hug, one that he must have been expecting this time since he readily hugs back. It makes Lance’s heart do something funny, but then again, anything Keith does nowadays makes his heart do funny things. 

He doesn’t realize that he’s staring again until Keith is staring back, Pidge having already moved on to talk to Allura. Their eyes meet, and the corners of Lance’s mouth involuntarily twitch up, his smile widening and heart tripping a little as Keith finally starts their way, waving another goodbye to Pidge. 

Adam clears his throat, waiting for Lance to redirect his attention toward him before speaking. “I’ll get out of the way so you two can talk.” He holds a hand out, using the other to push his glasses further up his nose. “I imagine I’ll be seeing you around.” 

Lance stares at his outstretched hand, then up at Adam. “How dare you?” Adam blinks, expression morphing into one of confusion seconds before Lance pushes his arm aside and steps forward to pull him into a hug. “I think we’ve far surpassed that stage, thank you very much.” 

Adam huffs, but he doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate the hug, arms wrapping tightly around him. “Don’t think this means I’ve forgotten about your snowball fight scheme.”

“It was Keith’s idea!”

“Of which you were a willing participant!” Adam points out, and Lance bursts into laughter as Adam lets him go and pushes him away with a hand to his head, ruffling his hair in the process. This also happens to be when he spots Keith standing just a few steps away, watching them both with a funny sort of look on his face, head tilted slightly and gaze thoughtful. 

Lance straightens immediately, absent-mindedly reaching up to smooth out his hair as Adam draws back, clearing his throat again meaningfully. Keith seems to snap out of it then, eyes flicking toward Adam while Lance drops his hand back to his side. 

“I’ll get out of your way,” Adam says to neither of them in particular, patting Keith’s shoulder on his way past. He shoots one last smile Lance’s way and then he’s gone, leaving Keith and Lance standing alone together in the middle of the room, eyes locked on each other. 

A moment of quiet passes, but it’s not long before the corner of Lance’s mouth quirks up and he steps forward to breach that short amount of distance between them. “Hey.” 

Keith looks like he’s trying to bite back a smile of his own, but he mostly fails on that account. “Hi.” 

“Already said goodbye to everyone?”

Keith lowers his head, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Almost everyone,” he corrects, peering back up at Lance through his lashes. 

Lance feels his own face fall somewhat, shoulders slumping. He looks down and reaches out to take Keith’s hands in his own, lightly swinging them back and forth. “Yeah,” he answers finally, voice subdued. “I know we basically just spent the entire month together, but I wish we had a little more time.” 

Keith’s fingers twitch a little in Lance’s hold, and he lifts his head to find Keith staring at him with a strange look on his face, lower lip caught between his teeth. Lance stills, their hands swinging to a stop and hanging limply between them. “What?”

He frowns as Keith averts his gaze, shuffling his feet. “Well, it’s just—I mean, I was thinking.”

Panic shoots through Lance’s chest like a bolt of lightning. Those are words that _no one_ in a serious relationship wants to hear. “Oh. Okay?” The fact that Keith suddenly can’t seem to make eye contact doesn’t do anything to reassure him. “...About what?” he prompts, when Keith’s silence stretches on for too long. 

“Well,” Keith repeats, taking a sudden interest in the scuffed up toes of his boots. “I kind of thought—maybe, if you wanted to, at least—um.” He tucks a piece of hair back behind his ear, a sure sign that he’s nervous and also a sure way to amplify Lance’s panic. What did he think. If he wanted to what. What else is there to want. 

“Keith,” Lance says slowly, and that’s all he manages to get in before Keith finally comes out with it.

“I was wondering if you would come back to the Altean colony with me,” he blurts. Lance blinks, and it must take him a second too long to really process, because suddenly Keith’s face pales and he stutters on in a rush to explain himself.

“Just for a day or something, not very long—Allura’s going, and you haven’t seen Coran in a while, so—not that you _have_ to,” he adds hastily. “I feel bad for asking because you’ve already been away from your family for so long and I know that you really miss them and—I mean, I’d hate to keep you from going home if that’s what you want, but also if you wanted to go to the colony, with me, I—just… you’re free to…” He trails off, sounding a bit out of breath as he searches for the right words. “The offer is open,” he finishes at last, voice going quiet in that rare way it does when he’s unsure about something.

Lance stares at him as he rubs the back of his neck, cheeks tinted a light shade of red when he looks up. It’s clear from the look on his face that he doesn’t expect anything—he’s giving Lance an option, and he’ll respect whatever choice he makes. And yet, the hopeful shine in his eyes is unmistakable, feet shuffling anxiously as he waits for Lance to react or make a decision. Lance opens his mouth. Closes it. Then he sighs, looking up and shaking his head at the ceiling. 

“Veronica is going to _kill_ me.”

。·:*:·ﾟ★。·:*:·ﾟ☆

It still kind of blows Lance’s mind how quickly now they can travel into deep space. 

One second he’s on Earth, and the next he’s in an entirely different galaxy in an entirely different sector of the universe who knows how many lightyears away, all because of the implementation of a single intergalactic civilization’s technology that’s already been around for tens of thousands of years.

Not to mention that a very small handful of years ago no one on Earth was even certain that aliens existed, and now he’s sitting in the cockpit of a foreign spacecraft with two descendants of two completely different alien races, one of which he used to crush on and one of which he is now dating. 

Hm. Maybe he has a type. 

“I can hear you thinking.” 

Lance blinks back into focus at the endless expanse of stars stretched out in front of him and glances over to find Allura watching him, her mouth quirked up into an amused smile. It must catch Keith’s attention too, because he shifts in the pilot’s seat to turn and look up at Lance over his shoulder, his brow instantly knitting in concern. “Is something wrong?” 

“Eyes on the road!” Lance squawks, poking Keith’s cheek in an attempt to make him turn back toward the front, ignoring his small noise of protest.

“What road?” Keith grumbles, although he obediently turns his attention back to the controls. He’s quiet for a moment, fingers twitching anxiously where they grip the flight stick. “Is… something wrong?” he repeats. 

Lance folds his arms across the seat and props his chin on top, trying not to smile down at the back of Keith’s head. “I’m not having second thoughts about coming with you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“I wasn’t worried,” Keith mumbles, which is Keith code for _that’s exactly what I was worried about but I’m not gonna admit it._

“Anyway,” Lance clears his throat, sparing Keith from teasing for once and changing the subject. “I was just—thinking about how much has changed, and stuff. That’s all.” 

Allura hums, and Lance scoots over to make room for her as she moves to join him behind Keith’s seat. “And only in a few years, too. Imagine how I felt after finding out Coran and I had been asleep for ten thousand.” 

Lance grimaces. “I can still hardly imagine a full-out war going on for that long.” 

“Not to pat ourselves on the back, but we _did_ kind of end it in, what, two years?” Keith asks, tilting his head to peer up at them.

“Yes, because you had the most powerful weapon in the universe at your disposal,” Allura points out, while Keith rolls his eyes when Lance plants his hands on his cheeks and turns his head forward again.

“Don’t forget the power of friendship,” Lance adds dryly. Keith snorts, and Lance laughs as Allura clicks her tongue and pushes at his shoulder, shaking her head despite the smile tugging at her mouth. 

The three of them fall into a comfortable silence after that, watching as the planet that the colony is located on grows larger and larger in front of them. The wormhole that they went through covered most of the distance (thanks to Allura’s own effort—Lance still has no idea how she does it, but he supposes that she _is_ the most powerful alchemist in the known universe now), so they really don’t have very far to go. Again, with the mind-blowing speed at which they can travel, plus the fact that they have Keith, arguably one of the best pilots of their generation, is flying their ship. 

(It runs in the family. Also, maybe Lance is a little bit biased.)

He remembers the handful of times that both Keith and Allura had described the colony to him, remembers getting a brief tour from Keith over video chat once, but none of it was enough to really prepare him for what he would see. Even before they land, Lance can already see the slopes of rolling green hills, the meadows dotted with vividly-colored flowers, the beginnings of a small forest along the bank of a river in the distance. It’s beautiful, reminds him a lot of the pictures on the travel postcards he used to pick through on Earth when he was younger, and it’s easy to see why people would want to make their home here.

Keith sets them down in a small clearing; the grass is tall enough that it ripples outward in the current of the ship, a sea of green that extends pretty much as far as the eye can see in nearly all directions. Allura moves away from the seat to look out the windows, and Lance can’t help but smile at the bright, hopeful gleam in her eyes as she bites at her lip and tugs at her hair. “Whatcha lookin’ at?” 

Allura glances his way and squints, looking him up and down. “Nothing much.” 

“Wh—hey!” Lance sputters, his own choked sounds of protest drowned out by Keith, who bursts into laughter. 

“You literally taught her that joke,” he reminds him, standing from his seat and hoisting his bag over his shoulder. 

Lance stumbles back a step from the impact of his own bag hitting his chest, also compliments of Keith. “Yeah, to use on _other people,”_ he grumbles. 

“I was joking,” Allura insists reassuringly, chuckling a little as she slips her arm through Lance’s while Keith activates the landing bridge. “I think you’re very handsome, Lance.” 

“The first thing you said to me was that my ears are hideous.” 

Keith snorts from in front of them and Allura smiles sheepishly as they follow him down the ramp. “Perhaps I was a bit harsh in the beginning. I’ve grown quite fond of them, actually.” 

“Don’t let that go to your head,” Keith adds over his shoulder, letting out a startled laugh when Lance chases him down into the grass and gives him a light shove to the back that sends him shuffling forward a few steps. “Okay, okay, I’m done.” 

“Bullied by my own teammates,” Lance sighs wistfully, although he cracks a grin as Keith turns around to face him, using his momentum to continue walking backward. 

It’s a nice view, honestly. Keith is smiling, eyes bright as the slightest gust of wind tugs at the strands of hair that have fallen out of his braid even though Lance redid it for him on the way here, and the sky behind him is the perfect shade of blue, clear and soft and only made to look more beautiful with Keith’s figure against it. Lance’s smile grows as Keith hikes his bag further up his shoulder. “Ready for the full behind-the-scenes tour?” 

“Do I get a refund if I spend the entire time flirting with the really cute tour guide?” 

Keith rolls his eyes, but it’s hard to take seriously when his cheeks are that adorably pink. “C’mon, I’ll show you where— _oomph!”_

Whatever he was about to say is _very_ abruptly cut off by a flash of blue light and something solid knocking him bodily to the ground, and he disappears entirely underneath a mass of gray and blue fur. Lance and Allura both gasp in alarm, and Lance is inclined to rush forward and help until the furry lump on top of Keith barks loudly, tail thumping against the ground. 

“Hey, stop that—Kosmo!” Keith laughs as the wolf assaults his face with kisses, eyes squeezed shut as he turns his head and struggles to free himself. “Okay, okay, message received— _ugh,_ what has Mom been feeding you?” He manages to wrench one arm out from underneath Kosmo and uses it to push him away long enough to free the other. Kosmo growls in approval as Keith reaches up to scratch behind his ears, laughing again as he happily licks his nose. “Yeah, I missed you too, buddy.” 

And that’s—this is _a lot_ to take in. Keith lying on the ground trapped underneath his two-hundred-pound space wolf, hair fanned out against the grass as he giggles and obligingly nuzzles his nose into Kosmo’s fur, arms wrapped around his neck in one giant bear hug while Kosmo continues to excitedly nudge at and lick his face. Not only that, but his casual mention of ‘Mom’, rather than simply ‘Krolia’ like Lance had been so used to hearing at the start—all of it is almost too much for Lance to handle. He can only imagine the soft, dopey expression on his face as he watches the two of them, so distracted by how full and genuine Keith’s smile is that he doesn’t realize Kosmo has turned his attention toward him until it’s too late. 

“Oh,” he squeaks, because Kosmo is now standing directly in front of him, head tilted and sniffing like he’s scoping out his next meal, which is Lance. “Um—hello.” 

“He’s not gonna eat you,” Keith chuckles, propping himself up on his elbows. “He knows who you are.” 

Lance hesitates, then slowly, cautiously holds one hand out toward Kosmo, who blinks at it curiously. Then he barks, startling Lance a little before leaping up and planting his two front paws on his shoulders, tongue hanging out and panting happily. Lance stumbles a little underneath the added weight but manages to stay steady, laughing as his earlier apprehension melts away. “I think he still likes me.” 

“I imagine that any friend of Keith’s is a friend of Kosmo’s,” Allura hums, coming to stand next to him and smiling when Kosmo barks at her in recognition. She reaches out to scratch underneath his chin and he wags his tail in approval, making a soft rumbling sound. “Hello to you too, Kosmo.”

The three of them look up at the sound of their names being called from the edge of the clearing, and Keith climbs to his feet when he spots who it is. “Romelle!” Lance glances over at Allura as Keith starts across the grass to meet Romelle, smiling a little when he sees that her eyes have widened slightly, cheeks just the slightest shade darker than usual. 

He smiles a little wider at the sight of Romelle practically launching herself at Keith to hug him, leaving her arms around his shoulders when she pulls away to finish tying something around his neck. When her hands fall away, Lance recognizes the orange necklace that she showed them on their video call earlier that month. 

“It’s very, uh… bright,” Keith is saying when Lance moves to join them, tugging a rather dazed Allura alongside him. Kosmo trots happily behind, circling Keith and Romelle once before sitting and making himself comfortable at Keith’s side.

Romelle’s face falls slightly. “You don’t like it?” 

“No!” Keith immediately rushes to correct himself, reaching out to touch her arm (it’s surprisingly really tender? Lance’s heart might melt a little). “I love it, Romelle. It’s already my favorite necklace.” (Okay, rude, but Lance gives him a pass on this one because Romelle beams at him, pleased.) “I’m just—not used to wearing so much color.” 

“I like to think I helped with that,” Lance chimes in. 

Romelle blinks at him over Keith’s shoulder. “Oh! Hello, Lance!” she greets cheerfully. “I didn’t know you were coming.” 

“It was a bit of a last-minute thing,” Lance offers. He can see Keith quirk a small, appreciative smile at him out of the corner of his eye while Romelle glances between the two of them curiously. 

“Ohhh,” she says thoughtfully, looking back at Keith. “Are you and he finally—” 

“Yep!” Keith answers quickly, head snapping back her way. He clears his throat, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Yeah, we’re—together.” 

But by then Romelle is only half-listening, because her gaze drifts past them both and falls on Allura, at the sight of whom her face lights up unlike Lance has ever seen in his life. “Allura!” She springs past Keith and Allura laughs as she catches her, spinning a little to keep them both upright. “I missed you so much,” Romelle sighs, arms tight around Allura’s shoulders. 

Allura squeezes back just as tightly, the smile on her face so purely happy that it’s hard to look away. “Me too,” she says quietly. Her eyes flick up to Keith and then to Lance, who immediately gets the message and clears his throat loudly, drawing Keith’s gaze toward him. 

“Keith, wanna get a head start?” 

Keith seems to pick up on it too, because he ruffles the fur on Kosmo’s neck and nudges him toward Lance, tossing one last smile in Allura and Romelle’s direction. “Let’s just grab our stuff first.” 

They backtrack to where Keith had originally been body-slammed by Kosmo to pick up their bags before starting across the clearing again and making their way toward the village, according to Keith. Lance adjusts the strap over his shoulder and smiles as Kosmo runs ahead of them, eventually disappearing in another flash of light. 

“So,” he begins once they’re out of earshot, his mouth curling up into a teasing grin when Keith looks at him. “What did Romelle mean by ‘finally’?”

Keith’s face flushes and he quickly ducks his head, hair falling into his face and obscuring the color of his cheeks. “Don’t worry about it,” he mutters, and ignores Lance’s pleased laughter while slipping his hand into his and pulling him forward.

Lance’s first impression of the village is that it’s relatively small, although there’s no shortage of Alteans by any means. Everything seems to be very tightly-knit, but nothing about it feels cramped, more cozy and comfortable than anything. The homes are all very close together, something he doesn’t think that they mind at all, and the paths that they’ve cleared for themselves are bustling with small shops while all sorts of aliens peruse the stands. 

“We get a lot of visitors,” Keith says, as if he can see the gears turning in Lance’s head. “Mom—uh, Krolia thinks this place is on its way to becoming a popular trading village. I think there’s a festival tonight, too. Something about the full moons?”

“Full moons, plural?” Lance asks. Keith hums an affirmative, waving back at a handful of Alteans who call out a hello as he continues to lead Lance through the winding pathways. Lance smiles at that, skipping a step to catch up and walk side-by-side, swinging their hands a little between them. “You seem to be pretty popular around here.” 

Keith scoffs, glancing sideways at him. “Just wait until Allura gets down here. She’s a literal celebrity.” 

Lance only has time to chuckle before Keith brings them to a stop in front of one of the homes close to the outskirts of the village, placing his hand on the small, shorter dome structure beside the door. It slides open with a near-silent hiss and Keith tugs him inside, snorting a little at Lance’s exaggerated _ohhhs_ and _ahhhs._

Inside is much more spacious than Lance had expected, given how simple it looked from the outside. The decor is pretty scarce, nothing much more than a couch and a coffee table in the first room, a small kitchen, and a narrow hallway that Keith motions for Lance to follow him into. They enter what he assumes has to be Keith’s bedroom, and Lance does a quick sweep of the room as Keith sets his things down. His bed is pushed against the wall with a few pictures tacked above it, some of the team and some of he and Romelle. A makeshift shelf with a couple of books stacked on top sits at the foot of the bed, and a small dresser in the corner. 

“This is all you have?” 

Keith shoots a sheepish sort of smile his way as he sits down on the bed. “I don’t actually stay here for very long whenever I visit, so most of my stuff is still with Shiro and Adam.” 

Lance nods, letting his bag slip from his shoulder and dropping it to the floor so he can sit down beside Keith. “Krolia stays here too?” 

“Mhm. Between missions with the Blade, at least.” 

Lance leans back on his hands and kicks his feet as he gazes up at the pictures on Keith’s wall, smiling to himself at the sight of one where Romelle is clinging to Keith’s back, grinning at the camera while Keith laughs. “Are you gonna give her that photo album while you’re here?” 

“That’s the plan,” Keith confirms, nudging Lance’s foot with his own and biting back a smile when Lance hooks their ankles together.

“On the topic of giving—” Lance waves his hand around in a vague gesture as he searches for the right word. “—things. D’you think Allura’s given Romelle the butterfly you guys picked out for her yet?”

Keith freezes, head snapping up as he gives up on his attempt to free his foot. “What—how do you know about that?” 

“What do you mean? Allura told me.” 

“And you know about—”

“Of course I do, Keith,” Lance scoffs, tossing one leg over the other. “Again, Allura tells me _everything.”_

Keith’s look of disbelief morphs into an adorable pout and he looks away, frowning at his hands in his lap. “I didn’t know you knew about that,” he mumbles. “I thought I was special.” 

Lance lets out a startled laugh, pushing up so he can sit forward and meet Keith’s eyes. “Aw, babe, you are special!”

“You’re biased,” Keith protests, despite the corners of his mouth curling up when Lance leans in to kiss his cheek. 

“Hm, maybe.” Lance tosses his arm around his shoulders, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Keith wrinkles his nose. Lance kisses that too, pleased with the color of Keith’s cheeks when he pulls back. “Are you complaining?” 

Keith bites his lip, shoulders relaxing under the weight of Lance’s arm. “Not really.” His gaze briefly flicks down and back up, and Lance has kissed Keith enough times now to know what that means, to recognize the hopeful look on his face, to know when he leans in that Keith will follow, eyes fluttering shut, noses brushing, exhaling softly against his cheek—

Someone clears their throat at the entrance of the room and Lance just about flies right out of his skin. They instantly snap apart, startled, and Lance immediately retracts his arm back to his own side in mortification when he recognizes the figure watching them. 

“Mom!” Keith shoots to his feet, teetering a little but righting himself just in time. Aside from the slight raise of an eyebrow, Krolia’s face remains carefully blank as Keith stutters on. “Uh, hey, we—I didn’t know you were—” 

“I just arrived,” Krolia interrupts, the tone of her voice giving away no sort of reaction to what she had almost witnessed. Lance’s face burns. “There’s only one person who can get Kosmo that excited.” 

As if on cue, Kosmo appears behind her and nudges his head underneath her arm, panting happily when Krolia obligingly scratches at the fur behind his ears. She smiles down at him as he barks, squeezing between her and the door to get into the room. He circles a spot on the floor a couple of times before deeming it satisfiable and settling there, resting his chin atop his crossed paws. 

Keith doesn’t seem to know what to say, feet shuffling and fingers playing restlessly with the hem of his shirt as Lance slowly moves to stand. He sort of regrets it when Krolia’s gaze flicks toward him at the movement and he has to resist the urge to shrink away. 

The corner of her mouth twitches. “Hello, blue paladin.” 

“The blue paladin has a _name,”_ Keith mutters under his breath. 

Lance clears his throat awkwardly, glancing sideways at Keith and then stepping forward to extend his hand. He may be on the other side of the universe from his mamá, but he’ll be damned if that means he forgot his manners. “It’s, uh—good to see you again.” 

Krolia seems to consider him for a moment, eyes narrowed. Everything about her expression is measured and calculating, but not necessarily unkind, although Lance would be lying if he said he wasn’t feeling very judged right now. At length, she takes his hand and offers one firm shake, somehow looking amused without actually smiling. “These are very different circumstances.”

“Heh. Um… yeah,” Lance manages, rubbing the back of his neck as they let go. 

“I won’t be long,” Krolia continues, saving the three of them from another uncomfortable stretch of silence. “Just came to drop off a few items and greet the new arrivals. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you both around.” Her eyes drift toward Keith as she backs out of the room, one hand resting against the threshold. “Welcome back, Keith.” 

Keith’s mouth quirks up into a smile, something soft that Lance has noticed is only ever really reserved for her. “Thanks, Mom.” 

“Goodbye, blue paladin.” 

The smile instantly disappears from Keith’s face as Lance flushes. _“Mom,”_ Keith grits out, but by then she’s already left the room. 

Keith rolls his eyes and sighs as he falls back onto the bed, pulling his bag closer with his feet and leaning down to rummage through it. Lance takes a deep breath and sinks down to the floor beside Kosmo, dragging his fingers through his fur. “Is she always like that?” 

“Yes,” Keith deadpans, without bothering to look up. Then he pauses, reconsidering. “Like what?” 

“Like, so—” Lance’s fingers still as he searches for the right words, only to continue their motion when Kosmo rumbles in complaint. “—completely and utterly unreadable?”

“Oh. Yeah, she is.” Lance snorts as Keith continues to dig through his bag, brow furrowed in concentration. “Did you bring your bayard with you?” 

Lance scoffs. “Uh, duh. Our bayards are like Batman’s utility belt.” 

Keith lets out a breath of laughter. “What?” 

“First rule of being Batman: never go anywhere without your utility belt. First rule of being a paladin: never go anywhere without your—”

Keith laughs unabashedly this time, sending Lance’s heart into somersaults at the sight of the dimple appearing in his cheek. “Alright, I get it. Just—hurry up and get yours out.” 

“For what?” Lance asks, even as he complies and reaches for his bag. 

“Nothing, I just—” Keith shrugs, clearing his throat in an attempt to be casual, which only proves how _not_ casual it is. He turns his own bayard over in his hands, refusing to make eye contact. “I thought maybe we could go spar.” 

Lance stills, processing. “Wha—is that the real reason you wanted to bring me out here? So you could see the sword?” 

“No it’s not!” Keith protests, but as usual the color of his cheeks betrays him. “I mean—maybe it was _one_ of the reasons, but—stop laughing!” He tosses his hands in the air and sighs while Lance guffaws, finally drawing his own bayard out of his bag. “Of course I want to see the stupid sword! With you holding it, specifically. Are you happy?” 

“That’s really sweet, babe,” Lance wheezes. “I’m flattered.” 

“I’m leaving you here,” Keith announces, shoving himself to his feet and breezing past him. 

Lance offers Kosmo one more quick pat, clicking his tongue. “He doesn’t mean that.” Then he climbs to his feet and hurries after Keith, smiling to himself the whole way.

。·:*:·ﾟ★。·:*:·ﾟ☆

“So are you gonna, like, teach me? Or am I just supposed to stand here and look pretty?”

Keith shoots Lance a half-hearted glare from where he’s seated in the grass, tugging at his boot laces. “You’re not even holding your sword yet.” 

Lance makes a wounded noise, pressing a hand over his heart. “Are you saying I’m not pretty without it?” He can’t help but smile as Keith heaves an exasperated sigh, only the corner of his mouth twitching up to give him away. 

They’ve moved to another small clearing just outside of the village, making the most of what daylight they have left. Lance had forgotten about the massive time difference between here and the Garrison—it’s nearly nightfall, very clearly so judging by the three moons rising around them, but his brain keeps forgetting it’s not midday. Sleeping tonight might be an issue, but he’ll figure that out later.

Keith pushes himself to his feet, brushing his hands off on his thighs before taking his bayard from his hip. It transforms into his sword with a flash of light and he easily adjusts to its weight like second nature, rolling his shoulders. “Okay. Ready?” 

“I feel like I should be asking _you_ that.” 

Keith sighs again. “Would you just—” 

Whatever he was about to say promptly dies on his tongue when Lance grips the handle of his bayard and wills it to transform into his sword in a flash of color. Keith’s eyes widen slightly as it fully extends, and even from a few feet away, Lance can see the tips of his ears go pink. He just barely manages to stifle a laugh, giving it a few experimental swipes through the air. “Allura says it’s an Altean broadsword. Pretty cool, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Keith blurts, and then flushes fully when Lance raises an eyebrow at him. “Stop that.” 

“Dude, you look like a tomato.” 

“Just—” Keith scowls, tightening his grip on his sword with both hands in a battle stance as Lance snickers to himself. “Are we gonna do this or not?” 

Lance smirks, pointing his own sword in Keith’s direction. “As long as you’re ready, babe. But I’m warning you, I’ve been practicing with Allura and she’s taught me some pretty cool tricks—” He abruptly cuts himself off with a small, breathless _oof,_ because he is now lying flat on his back and staring straight up at the sky. 

Keith leans into his line of vision from where he stands over him, expression all too smug. “Heh. Like that?” 

“That was cheating!”

“Was it though?” Keith offers his hand and Lance considers it suspiciously, only reaching out to take it when Keith wiggles his fingers impatiently. “First rule of sword fighting,” Keith starts, pulling Lance to his feet in one smooth motion. “Never let your opponent gain the upper hand.” 

Lance hardly has the chance to open his mouth before Keith ducks away and knocks his legs out from underneath him, sending him tumbling back to the ground. “Hey!” 

Keith just laughs, backing away to signal that he’s giving him time to get up. “Rule number one,” he repeats teasingly, a familiar yet dangerous glint in his eye that practically reeks of competition. And if that’s what he wants, that’s exactly what he’s gonna get. 

Lance quickly climbs to his feet and readies himself, both hands gripping the hilt as he narrows his eyes. “So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” 

“Just some casual sparring,” Keith shrugs, his posture purposely far too relaxed for the situation, presumably just to get under Lance’s skin. He cocks an eyebrow. “If you think you can handle it.” 

“Oh, I’ll show you some sword fighting alright,” Lance quips, any hint of his previous pompousness quickly redirecting its energy into a lighthearted yet fierce sort of determination, sword held at the ready. 

Keith strikes first, which Lance was fully expecting, but he’s still caught off guard by how quickly he moves. He knows that Keith is fast from months spent watching him in battle, often side-by-side, but having that sort of attack directed _at_ him is another story. He’s hardly raised his sword in time to deflect Keith’s before it’s coming at him from the opposite side and he has to duck to avoid it. At the very least, it gives him an opening to put some space between them before he can be thrown off balance, but Keith wastes no time and immediately lunges back in. Lance manages to parry several more strikes until Keith swings down, their swords grating against one another when Lance blocks it. 

“Not bad,” Keith taunts, pressing forward. “Thinking about actually making a move soon?”

“You talk a _lot_ of smack for someone with a mullet and fingerless gloves, Kogane,” Lance retorts. They both know there’s no bite behind it, especially when they’re both smiling and slightly breathless, using each other’s weight to hold themselves up. “Maybe I’m just waiting for the right opportunity.” 

Keith grins. “Sounds like it’s gonna be a pretty long wait then.” 

Lance knows he’s goading him, but he takes the bait anyway. Besides, where’s the fun in playing it safe? Their swords scrape together as he pushes Keith away and slashes forward, but Keith easily dodges and darts back in like it’s exactly what he’d been expecting to happen. Lance lets loose a sound of surprise at the sharp sting on his side from the flat of Keith’s blade, and no sooner has he tried to spin around than he’s lying on his back again, staring up at the point of Keith’s sword.

“Rule number two,” Keith says, looking very pleased with himself. “Always watch your blind spot.” 

Lance glances down at where his own sword is trapped underneath Keith’s foot, then back up, mouth slowly curling up into a mischievous grin. “Blind spot, huh?” There’s another flash of light, and Keith’s eyes widen as the barrel of Lance’s rifle thumps against his chest. “Like that?” 

“Are you—okay, _that’s_ cheating,” Keith complains, pulling his sword away from Lance’s face. 

“Is it though?” Lance asks innocently, snickering as Keith sighs and backs away out of range.

“C’mon, Lance. You already have a good handle on it, just one more go.” 

Lance obligingly climbs to his feet once again, dusting himself off and willing his bayard to switch back to its sword form. “I feel like you’re enjoying this.” 

“Maybe,” Keith agrees, an endearing hint of amusement returning to his voice. “What are you gonna do about it?” 

“You’re a real flirt when you’re in battle mode, you know that?”

Keith falters slightly, cheeks reddening. “I’m not—” His protest is quickly cut off by Lance, using Keith’s split second of distraction to dash in and throw him off balance. Keith has to scramble to get his sword up in time to block Lance’s attack, staggering back a step or two from the force of it. Lance almost laughs at the expression of surprise and near-betrayal on his face, but he _did_ take a jab at him earlier about making a move, so it only seems fair. 

He takes Keith’s instruction to heart though, however teasing it may have been at the start. Keith likes to be on the offensive, so Lance doesn’t let him. He keeps his strikes light, never staying in one place for too long, but heavy enough to keep Keith from bouncing back and taking control. The hardest part is refraining from tossing out witty remarks, because he really needs to maintain his focus right now, but he’s also entirely charmed by the hard set of Keith’s jaw and furrowing of his brow as he works to keep up.

It’s when Lance lands a particularly good blow that he finally finds his opening. Keith doesn’t quite have his footing, stumbling back a single step after parrying, and Lance lunges forward without a second thought. The next thing he knows, they’re both on the ground, Keith pinned underneath the weight of Lance’s arm across his chest and trapped where Lance’s knees straddle his waist. His sword lies in the grass a foot or so away where Lance had knocked it away, and Lance still grips his in the other hand. They blink at each other in surprise, panting as they try to catch their breath, and then one corner of Keith’s mouth twitches. 

Lance stares down at him. “You did that on purpose.” 

“Did what?” Keith asks sweetly, face breaking out into a smile. 

And _god,_ it’s really hard to even pretend to be irritated when Keith is smiling up at him like that, dark hair fanned out against the grass, eyes sparkling in what little light still shines throughout the clearing. Lance just shakes his head, already failing at any attempt to keep a straight face. “Oh yeah, you’re definitely enjoying this.” 

Keith actually giggles, which is exactly how Lance _knows_ he’s right, narrowing his eyes as Keith reaches up to wrap an arm around his neck. “What are you gonna do about it?” he repeats, eyes glittering.

“Tease,” Lance mutters, already leaning down as Keith giggles again, tilting up to meet him.

Then of course, someone clears their throat. _Again._ Lance sees his own startled panic mirrored in Keith’s eyes when they snap open and he moves to shift off Keith—at the same time Keith tries to move out from underneath him. The result is both of their heads knocking together, each of them reeling back with a groan. 

Lance looks up to see Krolia approaching them from the edge of the clearing while Keith rubs his temple. The look on her face is indecipherable as ever, but it still makes Lance’s stomach twist nervously and his cheeks burn, although he does his best to hide it. He scrambles off Keith and quickly rises to his feet, reaching out to help him up. 

“I apologize for interrupting,” Krolia says, slowing to a stop a few feet away as Lance pulls Keith to his feet, still rubbing his head. “The festival begins soon. I thought I should remind you, in case you lost track of time.” 

“Oh.” Keith lowers his hand, glancing down at himself and then over at Lance, grimacing slightly. “Yeah, we should probably go change.” 

Krolia’s gaze flicks between the two of them, arms folded behind her back. “It’s supposed to be very lively,” she offers. “Lots of dancing.” 

“Okay, Mom,” Keith answers quickly, as Lance awkwardly clears his throat. “I know, I’ve been.” 

She just smiles, and if Lance didn’t know any better he’d say he could see the mirth sparkling in her eyes. “Of course. I’ll see you there.” Her calculated stare falls on Lance and he stiffens, but only for a split second before she turns with a pointed wave of her hand and heads back in the direction of the village without looking back. 

The moment that she’s out of earshot, Keith exhales a long, drawn-out sigh, dropping his forehead against Lance’s shoulder. Lance chuckles lightly, tilting his head to press a kiss into Keith’s hair. “We just can’t win, huh?” 

“Let’s just go,” Keith grumbles, starting forward to follow Krolia back to the village and tugging Lance along behind him, laughing all the way. 

It’s only then that Lance realizes, they had never quite let go of each other’s hands. 

。·:*:·ﾟ★。·:*:·ﾟ☆

Krolia was right about one thing: the festival is certainly lively, if nothing else. 

The village has almost completely transformed in the short amount of time that they were away, colorful flags and banners and lanterns strung every which way between the homes, illuminating the paths and the market stands with a soft glow that seems to shift in color every time he blinks. It’s all very impressive, but even that has nothing on the enormous courtyard in the very center of the village where everyone has gathered. 

Lance doesn’t think he’s ever seen so many people smiling so genuinely all at one time. It vaguely reminds him of all the coalition rallies and balls and banquets he’d been to as a paladin of Voltron, after freeing or partnering with a new planet and celebrating their war efforts; at least, it looks that way on the surface. But the motivation behind and the implications of this festival are so much different, no reason to celebrate except for the simple fact that they can, so why not? 

There are groups of people congregating all around the edges of the courtyard, some of them sitting, some playing music on strange hollow tubes and hand-crafted drums, some milling about and sharing stories with each other over drinks. Yet even more of them are dancing in the center of the courtyard, all in very different styles but to the beat of the same music. Lance is just glad to be holding onto Keith’s hand as they walk through the crowd, otherwise he would’ve gotten himself lost ages ago. 

He smiles at the sight of Kosmo rolling around in the grass on the other side of the courtyard, several younger Alteans laughing as they run around him and happily launch themselves onto his belly, clinging to his fur. “Kosmo looks like he’s pretty good with kids,” he notes, speaking loudly enough to be heard over the noise. 

Keith snorts at that, but the tilt of his mouth when he speaks is hopelessly fond. “Kosmo’s good with anyone who gives him attention.”

Lance hums, trusting Keith to continue guiding him in the right direction as his gaze sweeps back across the clearing. “Where exactly are we going again?” An involuntary sound of confused protest slips from his mouth when Keith stops abruptly, causing Lance to stumble into his shoulder. “Uh, hello?” 

Keith just points, smiling, to a small group of people gathered around one of the many round standing tables lining the edge of the courtyard. It’s easy to pick out Krolia, although Lance has to do a double take when he realizes that she’s not in her usual Blade attire, dressed instead in casual attire. Allura stands beside her looking a bit distracted, eyes roaming the sea of dancers, and then next to her… wait. Is that—

Lance blinks twice, then squints. “Coran?”

A familiar head of bright orange hair swivels his way to reveal an even more familiar bright orange mustache. “Alfor’s beard. Lance, is that you?” 

“Coran!” Lance starts forward before he even remembers telling himself to move, Keith willingly letting go of his hand so as not to slow him down. Coran has hardly skirted around the edge of the table himself by the time Lance reaches him, practically crashing together in a tangle of limbs. 

“Lance, my boy!” Coran all but yells in his ear, voice rumbling through Lance’s chest and striking him with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. He can’t help but laugh, something almost like relief but altogether exhilarated bubbling up from behind his ribcage and spilling out of his mouth, even as he has the life squeezed out of him. 

_“Man,_ it’s good to see you.” 

“You’ve finally put some meat on those bones,” Coran remarks, pulling back but keeping a firm grip on Lance’s biceps as he looks him up and down. 

Lance can’t believe how much he’s missed that sort of unintentional bluntness, never meant as an insult but only as an observation. It’s surprisingly refreshing, makes his smile grow twice as wide while he allows himself to reminisce, if only for just a moment. “Yeah, I’ve had a little more than space goo to eat since getting back to Earth.” 

Coran’s eyes light up in that telltale way they do when they’ve breached a topic of his own personal interest. “Oh, yes! I expect Earth has been treating you well? Seen any of that rain you were always going on about?” 

“Lots of it,” Lance confirms, faintly aware of Keith returning to his side. “It’s just as incredible as I remembered.” 

“Keith!” Coran reaches out to give him a hearty thump on the shoulder. “Welcome back, number four.” 

Something settles warmly in the center of Lance’s chest at the old title, then unfurls at the even warmer smile it puts on Keith’s face. “Thanks, Coran. It’s good to be back.” 

“I take it you’re the reason for Lance’s appearance today?” 

Keith clears his throat, feet shuffling as he glances at Lance out of the corner of his eye. “Um. Yeah. We’re kind of—”

“Ah, young love,” Coran interrupts with a sigh, throwing his arms around their shoulders and pulling them against his sides from where he has somehow suddenly reappeared behind them. “Allura told me about you two just the other quintant.” 

“Oh,” Lance manages at the same time that Allura, who has remained thoroughly distracted throughout the entire exchange, finally snaps out of her trance and looks their way from across the table. 

“There’s always something so rejuvenating about seeing two teammates falling in love in the midst of war,” he continues dreamily, squishing their cheeks together. “The fire, the passion—” 

Keith lets out a strangled sort of noise. “Okay, I think we get—”

“The _spirit!”_ Coran exclaims. His eyes go glossy as he recalls an old memory, staring out into nothingness as he goes on. “Why, I remember my very first partner when I was your age. Had quite the romance we did, although it was technically forbidden by the squadron code.” 

“The code,” Lance echoes. 

“I was a captain, he was a general—too much tension for the cadets to handle, compromises the mission, you know the drill—”

“Coran,” Allura’s voice chimes in, and the three of them look up to see her rounding the edge of the table with a pained and yet overly fond sort of smile on her face. “As much as I’m sure we’d all love to hear the tales of your past romance, I was rather hoping for a dance.”

“Then you’ve come to the right place!” Coran declares, forgetting completely about his previous train of thought. He immediately releases Keith and Lance and springs forward to take Allura’s arm, already leading her away from the table and into the crowd. “I was once quite the suitor you know, always had everyone rushing after me for a dance during the balls…” 

Lance presses the back of his hand against his mouth to muffle a laugh as Allura shoots them an apologetic look over her shoulder. He offers a grateful wave and then she smiles before disappearing into the crowd with Coran, Keith scrubbing a hand down his face and sighing as they do.

“Stop laughing,” he grumbles at Krolia, who’s been watching the entire exchange without making any effort to hide her amusement. She’s not exactly laughing, but she declines to point it out and simply smiles as they join her around the table. 

“Romelle’s been looking for you.”

Keith huffs a laugh himself, sharing a brief, knowing look with Lance. “And I think someone’s been looking for Romelle. What does she need me for?” 

Krolia shrugs in a way that instantly makes Lance think: _ah, so that’s where Keith got it from._ “Ask her yourself. I’m sure she’ll come by soon.” 

“Soon, as in like, now,” Lance specifies, because he is currently watching Romelle emerge from the chaos and practically sprint toward them, eyes alight with glee. 

“Keith!” She skids to a stop, narrowly avoiding a collision with Krolia (who, for the record, doesn’t even blink). “Keith, will you come dance with me?” 

Lance sees the hesitation in Keith’s posture before he even has the chance to speak, shoulders tensing ever so slightly, fingers curling into his palms; which is strange, because what reason is there to warrant hesitation? He already knows that Keith and Romelle are close; he’s not some clingy, jealous boyfriend who doesn’t let anyone come within one foot of his partner—not to mention that Keith is very, very gay, so. Really, he doesn’t see the issue here.

“Oh,” is what Keith says finally, glancing sideways at Lance while Romelle slips her arm through his. “Romelle, I’m not sure if—I mean, maybe I should—” He trails off helplessly, at an apparent loss for words as his gaze flicks nervously toward Krolia. 

It clicks. Dancing with Romelle means leaving his boyfriend of a few weeks with his ex-soldier mother. Alone. By themselves. Perfect.

“Go dance,” Lance finishes for him, giving him a firm shove between the shoulder blades, much to Keith’s chagrin. “That’s exactly what you should do. Have fun!” 

Keith doesn’t have much choice other than to follow Lance’s trajectory or trip over his own feet, especially since Romelle is already pulling him away from the table and toward the center of the yard. He manages to cast one last uncertain, slightly terrified look over his shoulder before he and Romelle are swallowed up by the crowd too, leaving Lance and Krolia very much alone with each other. 

Truly one of the most horrifying circumstances that he’s ever found himself in, if he thinks about it too much. Not that he can complain, since he kind of purposely sealed his own fate by forcing Keith to go dance. 

It’s not awkward, exactly. Lance has a feeling that Krolia doesn’t feel uncomfortable by any means, in fact can probably sense his unease and is thoroughly enjoying it. She’s content to stand in silence and simply watch the festivities proceed, no further conversation necessary. They haven’t spoken directly to each other since he first arrived, mostly communicating through a third party, also known as Keith. 

They don’t dislike each other, they have no reason to (at least, Lance sure hopes so), but he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to _act_ around her. She and Keith have grown much closer over the past year. Maybe she doesn’t think he’s good enough for her son. Maybe she doesn’t think they’ll last. Maybe she’s become overprotective. Maybe she always was. Maybe Lance is just irrationally assuming the worst case scenario and should attempt to find neutral ground before he loses his mind.

Either way, now seems like a better time than ever to break the ice. Prove his worth.

She doesn’t even spare him so much as a glance when he clears his throat, propping his elbows against the table’s surface and leaning forward. “So, uh…” He scratches at his arm, eyes lowered to the ground. “I’m not sure how much Keith has actually told you about—er, us. But, I just feel like you should know—” 

“Before you say anything,” Krolia interrupts, “if you’re looking for my approval, you don’t need it.” 

Lance’s head snaps up in surprise, the anxious ball rolling around in the pit of his stomach coming to a complete standstill. “I don’t need—huh?” 

She finally does look at him then, quirking a small smile. He figures he should probably get used to that, even though it throws him off guard every single time. “You don’t have to be so nervous around me.” 

Lance chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s, uh. Kind of hard not to be. I guess I just sort of assumed I was being tested or something.” 

Krolia hums, returning her attention toward the festival. “It doesn’t matter what I think,” she muses, folding her arms against the table. “He’s come this far in life without needing my judgment, I see no reason he’d it now. Regardless, it’s comforting to know that there’s someone else out there taking care of him.” 

“We take care of each other,” Lance says automatically, cheeks flushing somewhat when he realizes what he’s said but having no intention of taking it back. That’s always been true, almost since the beginning, both on and off the battlefield. They watch out for each other, make up for the times they forget to watch out for themselves. 

Krolia doesn’t tease him for it, instead seems to understand exactly what he’s talking about. Her smile softens imperceptibly, but enough for Lance to follow her gaze into the crowd and see Keith and Romelle, both of them laughing as they spin across the courtyard. Well—Romelle is doing most of the spinning, simply pulling a willing Keith along behind her. It makes something indescribably warm bloom in Lance’s chest, unable to tear his eyes away from the bright curve of Keith’s smile and the dimple that’s reappeared at the edge of his mouth. 

“You make him happy,” Krolia murmurs, as if she’s been reading his mind all this time. “That’s enough for me.”

Lance watches as Keith pulls Romelle to a stop with an arm around her shoulders, leaning over and cupping a hand over his mouth to whisper in her ear. Even from here Lance can see the way that her eyes light up, the marks underneath them seeming to glow a bit brighter as well. She looks in the direction that Keith is subtly pointing, where Allura and Coran are still dancing just a few yards away, and Lance smiles. 

“He makes me happy, too,” he says quietly. Keith is laughing again, cheek squished against Romelle’s as she drags him into a hug and then takes off toward Allura. Lance hesitates, peering over at Krolia and considering, then takes a deep breath and pushed himself away from the table. “I’m gonna go dance with him.” 

He wastes no time, skirting around the edge of the table and making a beeline toward Keith, who has yet to turn around. To his relief, Krolia does nothing to stop him, content as ever to watch everything play out. Lance halts suddenly, and Krolia lifts an eyebrow when he looks at her over his shoulder. 

“Just for the record,” he calls back, “your approval. I know you said it doesn’t matter, but do I have it?”

He _swears_ that Krolia actually laughs, even if it’s only a faint huff of breath. “Go have your dance, blue paladin.” 

_Good enough,_ Lance thinks. He goes on his way with a salute and a grin, fully aware of the skip in his step as he leaves the table and plunges himself into the celebrating mass of people. Keith is still looking out after Romelle, lifting himself up onto his toes to see better, and that simple action is so completely innocent and irresistibly sweet that Lance can’t help himself. He quite literally sweeps Keith off his feet, laughter bubbling up out of his chest at his resulting grunt of surprise.

“What—” Keith starts, and is forced to pause and scramble to find his grip around Lance’s shoulders when he spins. “Lance, what are you doing?” 

“Dancing,” Lance grins, spinning around one more time for good measure and chuckling at the tightening of Keith’s arms around his neck. “With you. I thought that was obvious.” 

“But—” Keith’s gaze darts away in the direction Lance had come from, then back as he’s lowered gently to his feet. “Lance—” 

Lance pouts, snaking his arms around Keith’s waist and pulling him closer. “What, you don’t wanna dance with me?” 

Keith blinks owlishly, eyes wide before they narrow suspiciously. “What did she say to you?” It startles another surprised laugh out of Lance, who shakes his head as Keith slides his hands down his chest and pushes away slightly. “I’m serious! Is this a pride thing? Did she tell you not to come out here or something and you did it anyway? She’s still trying to get back at me for pranking her with Kosmo last time I was here—”

“Hey,” Lance cuts him short, hands rising to grip Keith’s arms. “Keith, honey. Don’t worry about your mom, okay? It’s just us.” He quirks a small smile as Keith stares up at him, cheeks tinted slightly pink from the term of endearment while everyone else continues to dance around them to the beat of the music. It all feels very familiar, makes his heart skip a couple beats just like it had the last time, although for very different reasons. He takes his hand and rests it over one of Keith’s still pressed against his chest. “You and me,” he says softly. 

The tension in Keith’s shoulders visibly melts away, all of it seeming to come out in a single, inaudible breath. “You and me,” he echoes quietly. 

Lance’s smile grows, and this time Keith smiles back, looping his arms around Lance’s neck once again while Lance gently settles his hands on Keith’s waist. “Okay?” he murmurs. 

Keith exhales a breathy laugh, leaning forward and tilting their foreheads together. “Okay,” he answers, as Lance guides them into a slow, unhurried dance that doesn’t come anywhere near matching the pace of the music, but that neither of them are about to complain about.

They come to a silent agreement to stay like that for a while, moving in nothing much more than a lazy circle. Keith’s eyes fall closed after only a few moments, breathing softly against Lance’s mouth simply because of the sheer proximity, hair tickling his cheek. It’s kind of funny, how they’re surrounded by more people than they have been all day and yet Lance is focused only on the small bubble of space that they’ve made for themselves, warm and safe and _theirs._

Like an anchor. Lance never wants to come back up to the surface. 

He’s admiring the stark contrast of dark hair falling over pale skin and listening to the slowly dwindling music when Keith shifts, turning only slightly to press his forehead against Lance’s temple, nose brushing his cheek. Lance leans into it, rubbing soothing circles into Keith’s hips with his thumbs. “You okay?”

Keith hums an affirmative, the sound of it vibrating straight through Lance’s chest and all the way down to his toes. “Just…” His fingers brush at Lance’s sleeve, between his shoulder blades, sounding thoughtful. “This isn’t exactly what I imagined my life would look like by the end of the month.”

Lance is quiet for a moment, processing. “That’s a good thing, right?” 

He can hear the smile in Keith’s voice. “Yeah. It’s a good thing.” Another short, contemplative pause, like he’s working himself up to something. “Thanks, by the way,” he continues eventually, arms tightening around Lance’s shoulders. “For coming here with me.” 

“I’d go anywhere with you,” Lance says honestly. He realizes belatedly that they’ve come to a standstill, especially when Keith pulls back to see him properly, eyes searching his face. Lance lets him. He has nothing to hide, not from Keith. His heart suddenly seems to be stuck in his throat as he lifts a hand to Keith’s face, brushing a stray piece of hair behind his ear. “I’d do it again.” 

The kiss takes him by surprise, more so because of how deliberately gentle it is and less so because there’s a ninety-nine percent chance that Krolia is watching them. He supposes he’ll take those chances. Keith’s lips are chapped from too much nervous chewing but he still tastes sweet, fingers lacing through Lance’s hair and tugging him down flush against him. Lance eagerly reciprocates, cupping his jaw and swiping a careful thumb over his cheekbone. 

“Been wanting to do that all day,” Keith mumbles against his mouth when they part, eyes still closed and cheeks flushed with warmth. 

“Impatient, are we?” Lance teases, pressing another slow, lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

Keith lowers his head onto Lance’s shoulder with a contented sigh, nuzzling his nose into his neck. “For you? Always.” 

And Lance kisses him again later, just for that.

。·:*:·ﾟ★。·:*:·ﾟ☆

The trip back to the Garrison the next morning (Earth time) is quiet.

Keith keeps his eyes forward the whole way, gaze fixed determinedly on the expanse of space out in front of them. The only reason it doesn’t worry Lance as much as it might have used to is because he can feel the same weight in the air that Keith probably does, heavy and thick enough that it’s hard to speak. They both know what it means. 

Neither of them want to say goodbye.

When they land in the hangar, Lance takes his time to grab his bag, checking through its contents one more time to make sure he hasn’t left anything behind. Not that he actually cares, but he’ll do whatever he can to stall at this point, and Keith isn’t complaining. They walk slower down the ramp than is strictly necessary, and once they reach the bottom, Lance can feel his heart constrict unpleasantly in his chest. 

Keith remains silent, watching as Lance drops his bag to the ground and turns to face him. For a moment they say nothing, surrounded by the familiar noise of the Garrison and everything that comes with it: boots squeaking against the floor, orders and announcements booming over the speakers, ships’ engines sputtering to life and fading into the distance. 

Lance swallows, scratching idly at his wrist. “So, uh… I guess this is it, for a little while.” He shuffles his feet awkwardly, risking a glance up at Keith, who up until now has been strangely still. 

Now his brow is creased, fingers curling and uncurling restlessly into his palms at his sides, and there’s no mistaking the downward turn of his mouth as he chews at his lower lip. None of that matters though, after he’s swiftly stepped forward and thrown his arms around Lance’s shoulders, pulling him close.

Lance exhales a short breath, rather unsteady but still relieved. He blinks into Keith’s hair, fixing his gaze on a point in the sky outside the hangar entrance behind them. “We can still call every day,” he says quietly, rubbing his hand up and down the length of Keith’s back before it comes to rest on his waist. “Just like we used to.” 

“I know,” Keith murmurs, although he doesn’t sound all that satisfied. “Just…” 

He trails off, but Lance hears what he means to say anyway. “I’ll miss you too.” 

Keith’s arms tighten around his shoulders, lashes tickling Lance’s skin where he buries his face against his neck. “I love you,” he mumbles. 

Lance is powerless against the smile that crosses his face, bittersweet yet more genuine than ever. “I love you too,” he whispers, just for the two of them. 

He isn’t sure exactly what he was expecting when Shiro called and told him that Adam wanted the team to come up and spend the holidays with them in Adam’s cabin. 

Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t this: a kiss on the cheek and a gentle squeeze of his hand, as Keith reluctantly pulls away with an even softer smile. A promise to call as soon as he gets back, more smiles and laughter when Keith waves and waves and waves until the ramp has fully closed. A handwritten letter in his back pocket as he climbs into the Blue Lion that reminds him where his heart is, even when he can’t see it. 

He never could’ve seen it coming, but he doesn’t mind. After all, that’s the best part, isn’t it?

And it’s only the beginning.

**Author's Note:**

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